Relating the interview in his ward that night, the politician inquired what this M.P. had done to help; for, he said, ‘he seemed properly put about.’

During these weeks, when about two hundred beds were occupied by Australian troops, officers from their headquarters used to call, full of anxiety as to the conduct of their men. The reason of this anxiety was not understood till afterwards, when reports were circulated that there had been difficulty and outbreaks in other hospitals and that Australians were considered ‘very wild.’ Many Australians were admitted to Endell Street Hospital, but they never gave any trouble. On the contrary, they showed a consideration and courtesy towards the staff which was only equalled by the attitude of the New Zealanders.

Eventually, the hospital became one of those to which New Zealand soldiers were sent, and the wards—especially the medical wards—had many serious cases among them. In the spring of 1917, and again in 1918, a great many cases of pneumonia occurred among New Zealanders, and some of them made marvellous recoveries. These troops were very much liked in the hospital; for they had gentle, refined manners and a wide outlook, especially where women were concerned. The organisation of the New Zealand Headquarters was one of the most efficient. It gave no unnecessary trouble to the hospital, and took a great deal of care of its men. In marked contrast was the Canadian organisation, which duplicated and triplicated the work of the offices, and sent innumerable letters of inquiry, instead of filing and referring to hospital returns. With a few exceptions, their men were brusque and somewhat rough, and the medical staff learnt to dislike the manners of Canadian staff officers thoroughly. Among their ranks were men of all nationalities—Russians, Greeks and Japanese, with whom communication was difficult, as they did not know English, and many Frenchmen, who spoke a patois only. These latter would have been very friendless, if Monsieur and Madame de Bry had not been available close at hand in their chocolate shop, and a message to them was never sent in vain. On visiting days the French soldiers were sure of seeing either Madame de Bry or one of the charming young ladies who sold so many sweets to the orderlies at Endell Street.

In 1919, when men were evacuated from Russia by Archangel and England, a party of French infantrymen arrived in an ambulance, with a large dog on a very stout rope. He was very gentle with people, but as he had lived in the forest camps and been trained to kill bears, he was not to be trusted with other dogs, and there was a hectic moment in Tottenham Court Road when he met a bull terrier, and two men and the rope were required to hold him. A party of Greeks and another of Serbians also came from Russia, the latter rejoicing in the sights and shops of London.

In that year, too, numbers of cases came from the East and from India, and it was not unusual to meet a monkey or a parrot or a strange reptile harbouring in the wards for a few days.

In August 1917 sixty beds were set aside for women, and were available for Q.M.A.A.C. and other women’s units until January 1919. Ladies who had been working abroad with the Y.M.C.A. or canteens found hospitality at Endell Street, and the wives of officers and N.C.O.’s, with children and little babies and their governesses and their nurses, returning from the East, spent a few days there. In all, two thousand women passed through those wards.

Comparatively few Americans were admitted as patients, but in the summer of 1919 orders were sent to accommodate a hundred and fifty U.S.A. troops, not sick, on their way home from Russia. These men, to judge by their names, were mostly of Russian origin. The U.S.A. Headquarters telephoned to the hospital to keep the men in for inspection, but consented to letting them go out the second day. The men were inclined to paint the town red, and straggled back, drunk and sorry, up till 1 A.M. The Headquarters said they must stay in next day, as they might leave at any moment. But no orders for departure came through, and the men became restless and rebellious and would have broken hospital but for the persuasive feminine tongue, which led them back to their wards. They were granted leave to go out the next day and were started off for U.S.A. on the following morning, less half-a-dozen who did not return in time, and two who were in the hands of the police for firing revolvers in the streets.

The critics and the sceptics prophesied that women would fail in keeping discipline, and certainly the War Office did nothing to strengthen their hands. It denied the women commissions or honorary rank, and refused to let them wear the badges of rank which soldiers recognise as symbols of authority. Thus there was nothing except her bearing to distinguish a senior from a junior officer. It would have been helpful if an experienced warrant officer had been appointed to the hospital, but instead a newly promoted corporal was put in charge of the R.A.M.C. detachment. Having thus made it as difficult as possible, the authorities left the women to sink or swim. But discipline came of itself. Until 1919 no conscious effort was made to maintain it, and in that year it only became necessary to take definite trouble about it owing to the very large numbers of men transferred to the hospital from others which were closing and in which a certain laxity had prevailed.

It was very rare for a man to be reported for a small offence and brought before the C.O., and in the early days the embarrassment was mutual. The sergeant (afterwards the sergeant-major) was often asked to leave the offender alone with her, so that she could speak more freely; and an appeal to the feelings of the sinner generally reduced him to tears. Then he had to be detained in the office with more pleasant conversation, till he regained his composure sufficiently to meet the public eye. After such an interview, one young fellow retired to his bed, and drawing the blankets over his head, refused to answer the inquiries of his much concerned friends. In the evening, when hunger drew him from his lair, they gathered round him with solicitude.

‘I’ve been up before men and up before women,’ he said, ‘and God save us from the women!’